Another Heart Calls
by Katy5219
Summary: One-shot for the A2A DE fic exchange! Post-4x09. Damon is spending Christmas drunk and miserable at a bar, all alone. Until a certain brunette tracks him down for a much needed talk on feelings. For kketura! T for language, mostly.


**AN: **Hey guys! Just a semi-late holiday one-shot for the Author-2-Author fic exchange! The prompt for this fic was given by **kketura**, and here was the prompt: "**Damon's never been a fan of Christmas, so when the big day comes, he's as far away from the candy canes and tinsel as he can be, aka at a bar, drinking, wishing Ric was there to complain to. Elena tracks him down when she realizes he's MIA. Angst ensues and feelings revealed. I'm okay with or without smut. Take this wherever you want!**"

Honestly, there is no smut to be found here, there was no way to make it work there. Sorry, guys! Anywho, I hope someone enjoys this, and I hope everyone's keeping up their New Year's resolutions! :)

*Tosses cookies*

P.S. To anyone wondering, RSG really is going to be updated very very soon. January's shaping out to be quite awesome, believe me ;)

* * *

"Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way..."

Damon let out a hoarse laugh as he downed another golden shot, courtesy of the bartender before him.

"Hey, kid, shouldn't you be heading out?" The balding man asked him, taking a break from his highly stressful glass-cleaning task. Damon spared him a glance, and noted that the puffy-faced lost soul must've been in his 50's. Still, being called a "kid" at the ripe age of 170 did sting a bit.

"Now why would I wanna do a thing like that?" He spat out. He wasn't in the best of moods, and the more he drank, the less patience he had for the world that didn't give a rat's ass about him.

The man nodded towards the clock hanging on the wall beside his head. It was 2 am, and it was officially Christmas. Where had the time gone, he wondered. Looking around, he quickly realized he was the sole patron of the otherwise deserted seedy bar.

Not that he was particularly surprised. It wasn't as if Mystic Falls was big enough for two people as miserable as he was. No, he was the only one. The only one without family and friends. A sharp pang tugged at his chest, as he realized that he missed Ric. Despite their differences, the camaraderie he had shared with the other man had made Mystic Falls a bit more tolerable. Ric had been his only true friend, and he had royally screwed the pooch on that one as well. He always did.

Stefan had made it abundantly clear to him that they weren't going to be spending the holidays together. If Damon had to make a wild guess, it had something to do with Stefan's sweetheart taking a liking to him. Forced by a mystical bond or not, he was sure it had to sting.

All night long, he'd been plagued with the same dilemma; to plunge his incisors into the barkeep's neck and drink the lifeforce pumping through his veins, or to go about his night. Simple choice for some yes, but his existential dilemma never left him for too long. What was the point of fighting it? What was he even fighting for?

If he was honest with himself, he was damn near certain that Stefan's dream for a cure was just that; a dream, one which he'd soon wake up from. Damon, on the other hand, was wide awake and not ready to waste his unlife chasing pipe dreams. It wasn't as if good things ever stayed with him.

As soon as the self-pity came, so did the sensory flashes of **her**. The way she had given herself to him, had acknowledged him as worthy of the happiness she had showered him with. Damon could remember every single detail. The way her cherub lips curved upwards mischievously when he touched that one special spot near her hip. The way she shuddered when he licked a trail all the way from the apex of her sunkissed breasts to her navel.

Elena Gilbert was imprinted on to his heart, mind, and soul, and try as he might, no amount of drinking could erase it. Not having her before had been bad, but having her, only to have that shred of happiness stripped from him...Well, that was just a smidgeon worse. Sure, he was rocking a serious case of blue balls ever since they had stopped having sex, but that wasn't his biggest problem.

It was Christmas, and as much as he wanted to deny it, plain hated to admit it, he missed her. Even if it wasn't real, he didn't care. He wanted to be selfish, to take her in his arms, and allow himself to be happy. Hell, she was, so why couldn't he be as well? Damon rolled his eyes as he remembered; he couldn't be happy, because he couldn't be that person with her.

He remembered the way she had looked at him with pure disgust in her eyes after he had snapped Jeremy's neck. Elena's eyes had glistened with tears, silently asking him what she had done to deserve his wrath. God, he was such a scumbag, he thought to himself. He deserved to spend Christmas, Hanukkah, and fucking Easter all by his lonesome. Taking advantage of Elena was out of the question.

She was the one person who seemed to always look for the best in him, and he hated the way it complicated things. He wasn't the good brother, he'd never felt the overwhelming guilt that Stefan so verbosely described in his diaries. Not before her. Elena just kept messing up his life, and screwing with everything he had come to accept as fact, and what was worse, was that he liked it. Or did he?

Damon let out a low groan. How the fuck was he supposed to know?

Wanting to shut it out, he grabbed the bottle of tequila from behind the counter, and liberally poured himself another shot.

"Son, you can't do that," The older man said, with just enough condescension for Damon to finally lose his shit.

At lightning speed, the man had been grabbed by the windpipe and pulled over the counter. The man's bloodshot eyes flashed with fear as he recognized the imminent danger he was in. That was the great thing about humans, Damon thought to himself, their emotions were so heady. He could feel the distraction of the hunt wash over him. Yes, this was what he needed. Screw being right.

"What's your name?" Damon asked, his pupils dilating as he manipulated the answers out of his victim. This was oh-so-wrong, and that's what made it fun, he laughed internally.

"Dale." The man answered robotically.

"Dale." Damon tasted the name on his tongue. What a miserable pedestrian name for a miserable pedestrian. The man clearly had no life to speak of, since he was working at a bar like that on Christmas. Not that he could throw rocks, of course, Dale was his only entertainment for the night. If only he would look good in a tight top and microshorts, Damon mused to himself. Life was full of disappointments.

"You're not scared." Compulsion was like taking candy from a baby. "You're not going to scream, because you are calm. You want this. You will forget all about this after tonight."

Just as he felt his fangs slice through his skin once more, he heard the melody of her voice penetrate the haze he was in.

"So that's how you're getting off when we're not sleeping together?"

Still dangling Dale in the air, he turned around to look at her. Standing in the middle of the abandoned bar, wearing her regular jeans/cardigan combo, she looked out of place. She was only 18, and even knowing the things she could do with her tongue, far too innocent to spend Christmas at a dive like the one they were in. He was sure the thought was running through her mind as well, as she tugged on her left sleeve awkwardly.

"Don't be jealous," Damon quipped with feigned levity, "There's plenty of Dale to go around. Between the two of us, he seems easy."

Elena gave him a tightlipped smile. Slowly, she strutted over to them, and gently placed a hand around his right one. The one that was still choking the life out of the prey he had selected.

"Damon." Elena said with a soft lilt to her voice. "Let go of him."

Looking down into her eyes, he felt it again, that irritating need to make her proud. And for what, to have her look at him with the kind of love he felt for her? It wasn't in the cards for them. Their timing was as terrible as ever.

He looked at Dale again. "Go the fuck to sleep."

Bashing his head against the counter, the older man slumped down beside their feet. Elena gasped and bent down to check the man's head. He didn't miss the way the red veins appeared around her eyes, as she took in the trickle of blood seeping down from his hairline.

"Oh come on, Mother Elena, he'll live. If you really think about it, I did him a favor. Everyone deserves a good night's rest on Christmas." Damon remarked drunkenly.

Instantly, he felt Elena smash them against an adjacent wall. She pressed her body against his, her elbow painfully placed over his windpipe. His girl believed in retribution for the innocent, he smirked to himself. _His girl?_ She wasn't anyone's girl. She was her own woman, something that he was becoming more and more attuned to every day.

"What the hell is your problem, Damon?" Elena yelled at him. Her eyes were lit with righteous fury as she gazed upon him. He shouldn't have gotten hard just then, but perverted as he was, he couldn't ignore how delectable she looked when she infuriated to that point. Her tight little body pressed up against his didn't alleviate his pain at all.

"I'm in trouble, right?" He grinned. "Spanking is all the rage right now, just putting it out there."

"Shut up!" Elena yelled at him. "I don't care that you're being a self-destructive ass. I won't let you do this to yourself, or to anyone else. This isn't you, I know you."

Damon stared at her with icy blue eyes. Why couldn't she just give up on him? "You're awfully clingy, you know."

Harshly pushing him against the wall, she let him sink to the floor. He let out a hoarse laugh at the uncoordinated mess he was. He must've had a few more drinks than he'd thought. Damon watched as Elena walked over to the bar and sat on one of the bar stools.

As he sat on the floor, he took in how weary she looked. He furrowed his brows. Why was she spending her Christmas like this? He knew the relationship between her and Jeremy had been strained to say the least, but what about Bonnie? And Caroline? Even Stefan had been clamoring to spend Christmas with her, in a last-ditch effort to get her to see the "error of her ways". Damon had used his mental Crayolas to add in some color to Stefan's statement, and it was fairly obvious that he was the "error" his baby brother had been referring to.

Elena picked up his abandoned shot glass, and filled it to the brim with more of the amber liquid. Like a pro, she downed the drink, before letting out a deep sigh. Slowly, she turned her head towards him, and narrowed her eyes.

"I'm not just gonna leave, or give up, you know." She stated matter-of-factly.

Damon picked himself up. "Elena, you shouldn't be here. Go be with your friends."

Elena opened her mouth to immediately protest. "But you're my fr..."

He raised his hand. "Don't. Please don't."

Damon cursed his supernatural senses just then. He could not only smell the salt, but he could also see the liquid gathering on her doe eyes. Now she was crying. Merry Christmas to everyone, he thought sullenly. Cursing himself, he walked towards her with trepidation. He was such a glutton for punishment.

Sitting down beside her, he felt guilty as he watched the green and red Christmas lights reflect off her tear-streaked cheeks. He wanted to wrap his arm around her, but he was drunk. He didn't want her to get false hope. If he was honest with himself, he knew he didn't want to give himself false hope. Elena would be perfect, as usual, and yet he'd still be all alone, come the next day.

Elena let out a choked sob, and to his surprise, she smiled at him softly.

"What's so funny?"

Elena motioned around the bar. "I just can't believe I'm here on Christmas."

"Shouldn't you be carving a turkey with your brother, or fighting with your girlfriends over the decorations?"

She gave him a pointed look. "You really didn't think I'd let you spend Christmas all on your own, did you?"

He shrugged, not sure of what to say. "I didn't expect you to...I don't...Whatever, it's nothing."

Elena slammed her hand against the counter with enough strength to crack the surface. "Dammit, Damon! It's not nothing! **You** are not nothing, so stop acting like you are!"

Hopping off the stool, she crossed the few inches separating them, until she was standing between his legs. Bringing her hands up to cup his face, he could see her plead with him silently with her eyes.

"I need to say this." Elena told him with absolute conviction. "You've been the one bright spot in my life over these past weeks. It's been you. Don't you see that?"

She still hadn't lowered her hands away from his face. Damon sighed. "I can't do this, Elena, you know I can't."

Elena adamantly shook her head. "You're right, Damon. You can't do it. You can't do this to **me**. Did you ever...hope, that I could feel the things you wanted me to feel?"

He let out a dry laugh. "What do you think? That night in your room, after Katherine's return? Or Denver? I wasn't just hoping, I was waiting. God knows I had no right to, but I never could help myself."

Pulling his head close to hers, he could feel the hot breath puffing through her lips, which were a mere hairsbreadth away now. "Then how dare you? You can't just decide that you don't deserve it, and punish me for actually feeling the same way. You can't only want me when it's impossible."

He pulled her hands harshly off his face with a sneer. "Don't be a child, Elena."

"Then don't push me away!" Elena huffed back at him.

Damon looked at ger desperately. "Please."

She shook her head. "I need you, Damon. Just come with me, please."

He let out a low groan. He wanted to believe in it. "But the sire bond..."

"It's not real," Elena cut him off swiftly, "Not the way we are, and you know it. I know you feel it, I know you do!"

"How could you know?" He asked the question that plagued him day in and day out.

Elena shrugged. "Go ahead then. Let's try this voodoo sire bond of yours. Give me a command right now. Tell me to move on. To forget about you. To not feel the way I do about you."

Damon looked away. "I wouldn't."

"Do it!" Elena taunted him. "You know you want to."

He glared at her. "You don't know what you're dealing with here."

"Fucking just do it! Tell me to move on!"

"MOVE ON, ELENA!"

For a moment, all he could hear in his ears was deafening silence, as he took in her shocked expression. She looked horrified, before her face settled into a more calm expression.

It's not up to you, Damon." Elena whispered, tears freely falling from her eyes now. "It's real. Oh god, it's real, and I can't just walk away. The sire bond gives you no control over my emotions. I chose you. Please stop pushing me away. I can't take it anymore."

Somehow, Elena had ended up in the center of his arms for the last "please". "Please give us a chance. That's all I want. It's Christmas, and all I want is to have you back."

He was so torn. He could feel all his earlier rage and bitterness slip away from him. He wasn't alone anymore, because she had come for him,just like she always did. And damn, if he wasn't tired of fighting her off. He was tired of little invisible roadblocks between them, that didn't appear to mean anything. They were still alive, still fighting for their lives day in and day out. Maybe, just maybe, some things could be postponed until tomorrow, he thought.

Elena's eyes fell, as she came to the conclusion that he had rejected her again. "I see. Okay. Well. Merry Christm-"

She didn't get to finish her sentence before his lips had collided against hers. Devouring her kiss, he groaned into it, having almost forgotten just how addictive she was to him. Her kisses were heaven. Grabbing locks of his hair, Elena searched for the delicious friction that their bodies knew all too well, only for Damon to place his hands on her hips to stop her from pursuing that avenue. Her fangs nipped his lips lightly in warning, and he chuckled. Pulling away from her, he enjoyed the way she'd been left gasping for an unnecessary breath, her lips puffy from the sudden assault.

Sweeping a few stray strands of hair away from her face, he kissed her forehead, letting his lips linger for longer than necessary.

"Let's go home, okay?"

A smile spread across her face, and he wondered if he was insane. It didn't matter, with the way she was looking at him, he really couldn't be bothered to care. She had searched for him, spent her Christmas worrying over him, and he was so very inferior. But she cared, she had to care. Her smile was wide enough to permanently crack her face, and he finally saw it.

He saw the love he had always felt for her, duplicated right down to the core in her eyes. He wondered if it had always been there. Had he refused to see it, or had she merely been too scared to show it to him? He decided that it didn't matter how they had gotten here. Despite hunters, and witches, and psychotic brothers, the timing was starting to feel more right by the second. In his drunken haze, he couldn't be bothered to care about anything else.

Damon was shaken out of his thoughts as she wrapped her dainty hand around his. Softly, she stroked the skin of his hands. She looked up at him from beneath her lashes, and gave him a shy smile. Despite himself, he couldn't help but feel as if he could do anything, be anything, as long as she would bestow that look upon him,

"Merry Christmas, Damon."

"This still doesn't mean you're getting laid tonight."

* * *

**AN**: That's it, folks! *Group hug*


End file.
